Bridge
I already do:
The bridge between heaven and earth;
The bridge between God and man;
The bridge between what was and what will be—
the present; that is, today.
Today, I live under a bridge.
His name is Jesus, Son of Man and Son of God.
The bridge hangs upon cross beams; it beams with light.
Under its almighty shadow, here I dwell.
This bridge, this cross, he hangs and we hang out.
You say I will live under a bridge.
You are partly right.
More fitting is the truth in full:
I live under God's bridge, today.
Today— not only under, but in the end dying on it with him,
With him, in him, touching the wounds of God and man— today.
Under the bridge,
On the cross,
In him, he meets me in the tent,
That's where my life is,
Today, in paradise, I will live with him whose kingdom comes...
... on earth, even as it is in heaven.
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And Jesus said to him, “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.”
He replied, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”
To the present hour we are hungry and thirsty, we are poorly clothed and beaten and homeless, and we grow weary from the work of our own hands. When reviled, we bless; when persecuted, we endure; when slandered, we speak kindly. We have become like the rubbish of the world, the dregs of all things, to this very day.
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